All Our Tainted Stars
by LITERALLYLEN
Summary: Gary Oak  is all bright affability, and cutting words on the right side of sardonic. He speaks with all of his body, and laughs the same way too. He's so beautiful that Misty's heart kind of aches. And that's probably more worrisome than anything else. / Misty, Gary, and all the ways they piece each other back together again.
1. Not Quite Hello

**Author's Note: Ok, so second FIC in a row, but this is in complete dedication to my boo Mandy (Ameriboo) who was cute enough to request from me some Egoshipping with the prompt of "Things you always wanted to say but never had the chance" which is so beyond beautiful to me and I can't wait to fulfill in this little multi chaptered thing I'm trying out XDXD But also please be sure to check out her gorgeous FIC that she was sweet enough to write for me, "The First Night of The Summer Of Love" It's one of my favorite things on this planet right now!**

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**.. ****All Our Tainted Stars**

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**Chapter 1**

**It starts off like all the great love stories do. Too much passion, too many promises, and not enough reasons to constitute staying.**

.-

Misty knows full and well that she's just another blank face in the sea of regulars who are ravaging yet another one of Andrew Hayden's infamous soirees—blissfully letting go of any and all woes, while relishing in the irresponsible frivolity and debauchery of youth. The ambiance is thrilling if Misty's being at all honest. The throng of people are all swaying and jiving in the center of Hayden's imposing yard, the chill of the night tickling exposed skin, while frothy laughter pours out of there scotch tainted lips.

Misty knows that considering her position as one of the most eligible young Misses in the state— with a blood line scaling back to some of the first folks to ever set foot on this land from the old world, and the youngest daughter of the much beloved and revered baron of wealth, Myles Sheffield— that she has no reason to be swallowed up in this whirlpool of new money gents and flapper gals who are merely looking for a good time composed of outlawed booze and flamboyant dresses that they dawn themselves in as if a new sort of Napajan royalty that would even put the Kalosian monarchs to shame… But then again, , Misty has always chafed under the propriety her regal but strict mother had imposed upon her and all her sisters since youth. So when her most dearest and darling friend, May — the eldest born to one of the most prominent families in the regions by her mother, and the ever illustrious second term Hoenn Senator by her father, (dressed to the nines in some sort of frilly, skirt contraption, and bright eyes accented by a charcoal liner) —had pleaded for Misty to join her in attending the festivity, "I just know the whole talk of the town will be there, and I've already rallied Dawn in coming. Oh please Misty, will you join!" well she was loath to say no.

From the moment they stepped into the residence, all eyes caught on them, not an irregular occurrence— after all they are quite well established as a tight knit group that always aws onlookers, three beauties who've always been attached by the hips, and who can dole out sparkling words that would mesmerize even the coldest of folks. They'd always been the center of attention for any gathering, constantly complimented for their good wit and amiable charm, as if they were the three muses of ancient times over just simply three outrageously beautiful and exuberantly wealthy girls of the Regions. Dawn the brilliant one, May the most striking, and Misty somewhere in the middle. ("The perfect angel every fella wants to claim as his own." "But too good for even a saint.") May and Dawn would tease during one of their countless nights spent regaling to one another their dreams and hopes of the future… Which alas for a woman always ultimately lead to discussion of her eventual husband.

Dawn and Zoey have been skirting around one another for going on a year at this point, only

awaiting the blessing by Doctor Berlitz for as long as it behooves Dawn. Misty knows full and well that her bright and liberated friend would run off and wed the athlete whenever she feels it fit— even if it is an elopement, and for her part Zoey would follow at a moment's notice.

In the same vein, despite her flighty tendencies and flippant nature of juggling the affections of one paramour to the next, May has always held a soft spot in her heart for the heir of the incomparable Hayden fortune, a boy whom they've all been intimately acquainted with since their juvenescence, but whom's always held May in his highest esteem and only treated her like the finest of porcelain he's thankful to even glance upon. There's absolutely no doubt in Misty's mind that Drew would give the world a million times over if May would only smile his way for only a sparing moment, and she's just as sure that May longs for that sort of soft intimacy.

Misty sometimes feels left behind by her friends' romantic endeavors, sometimes reasons that it would do her well to just except the hand of one of the fine suitors who are at her beck and call, even if she may not feel the same fervor in her fancy towards them as they do her. Just so that she and May and Dawn could all continue on the same page as always.

Soon enough May was whisked away by Drew to try her hand at the new dance of the day that still made Misty's cheeks blush with it's impropriety in public— her mother's teachings more ingrained into her than previously thought— and Dawn's gaze caught on a fiery redhead twirling around in the center of the gazebo soon after that, promptly leaving Misty in the dust to wander around on her own. Which of course isn't exactly a difficulty. She knows how her face looks, knows the way her dress hugs her soft curves in the exact right breath that makes gals and guys alike track her path, some with envy and others with coquettish intent. Misty's never been left alone, not really, not for long. People are always more than willing to drape themselves over someone as beautiful and affluent as one of the heirs of the Sheffield legacy. (Only a stone of which composes the crown Jewels of Napajan antiquity).

A quarter of an hour in and Misty finds herself being chatted up by some rather handsome brunette—Richie, or Reggie or what have you. She's demure in the way that has always been perfected with practice, each flip of the hair and squeezing of the shoulder deliberate. And he's eating it up quite lavishly, if Misty's got anything to say about it.

"Tell me more about your employment good sir, I reckon it fairs well in these most prosperous times?" She asks with a crooked grin, one brow cocked ever so slightly, making a distinctly pink hue tint his cheeks. He's smiling down at her with all his teeth, eyes shimmering as if he thinks her to be the most delightful creature he's ever encountered in all his time, equal parts captivated and besotted.

"To easy," Misty thinks to herself with a derisive sneer. She could never fathom spending more than a date onto the town with him, but then again that's all she's ever searching for… And maybe she should start expanding her horizons if she wants to keep in pace with her practically betrothed friends.

"Perhaps we can discuss it more after grabbing a couple drinks and strolling around the Hayden estate," Richie— or Reggie, she still hasn't a clue— croons with a leer, and God he really is handsome, isn't he? — eyes like Gilbert, (John), and a finesse like Fairbanks, (Douglas). He's the exact sort of fella that would charm her mother, and speak of the most recent elections with her father. Someone to spar words with a bold Daisy, and to listen to Lily's daydreams of a beau who could match all her most ardent desires, while maybe even playing a round of tennis with a beaming Violet who's always been the best athlete of the Sheffield crew.

Does it truly matter if Misty doesn't feel anything worth anything for him?

"I've never seen one so… big." He continues, eyes crinkled with intent and hand squeezing her much smaller one in an indelicately insinuative manner.

Misty swallows any sort of retort that's coded with steel, instead dimples up at him sweetly, forcing herself to be malleable to his charms that teeter on boastful.

"Sounds like an invitation I can't pass up," she says with a deliberate squeezing of her arms to feign shielding herself from the wind, giving him an eyeful of her abundant cleavage while still coming across as demure as her mother trained her to be, and he's entirely spellbound.

Too easy.

After a moment of him gaping, he offers his arm for her to hook her's around, speaking on his business as a law clerk for the esteemed chief judge of the Region's supreme court, though the only problem that arises with their conversation is how all attention given to Richie/Reggie by Misty is promptly thrown out of the god forsaken window when they swagger up to one of the elaborately put together drink tables and she suddenly finds herself dumbfounded. Stricken and petrified when drawn to the sight of a beautiful boy standing besides a gorgeous, dark skinned girl. And for the first time in her life Misty feels like she's standing on the precipice of something bigger than herself—something that can alter her world so thoroughly that it'd leave her windswept and dazed.

It's probably a full minute of Misty not so inconspicuously staring until the beautiful boy finally turns around to lock eyes with her, the corner of his mouth curving upwards into a small, welcoming grin, while his impossibly piercing eyes dart up and down Misty's physique. In turn she suddenly feels over exposed, and severely lacking when compared to this enigma of a man. Like she was never good enough, like she could never be good enough for him.

With clenched fists of tension, and the release of a tight breath she hadn't even realized she was holding, Misty pivots on her heals, and scurries away from the beautiful boy, and all the promises he radiates.

Feeling already half in love with him, and not ready for any of it.

.-

**Author's Note: Thank you gorgeous soul so so much for reading! I would adore you for an eternity and a day if you left me a comment down below letting me know what you thought of this! Seriously and truly, leaving a review for an author makes their entire day and inspires them to continue on writing3 **

**So hope o hear from you soon ;)**

**All My Love**

**~Len**


	2. Could End In Burning Flames Or Paradise

**All Our Tainted Stars**

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**Part II: Could End In Burning Flames Or Paradise**

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Apparently, the enigma, as Misty has begun fondly referring to him inside of the safety of her own head, is knew and town, and runs in the same circles as she and her closest companions. Which in layman's terms means that Misty can not fucking evade him. Parties, sporting events, theatre performances… He's anywhere and everywhere, making Misty's knees go weak and her heart feel like it's trying to leap right out of her chest, so to chase the infuriatingly enticing boy to reunite with the pieces he has ever so carelessly snatched away with nothing more than a breath of a glance.

Gary Oak is all bright affability, and cutting words on the right side of sardonic. He speaks with all of his body, and laughs the same way too. He's so beautiful that Misty's heart kind of aches. And that's probably more worrisome than anything else, because Misty's probably had more almost lovers than she could even bother to recall their names—just a steady grasp holding onto her like she were a favored prize, and breathy moans smothered by stolen kisses that never went so far as to threaten her chastity. nothing truly tangible or worth remembering—But Misty's never felt her hands go clammy when around any of those suitors. Never had her tongue tied, or her chest throb. For hell's sake, Misty was infamous for blasé chatter, (in contrast to Dawn's quick wit and May's cotton candy chortles), in the back of whatever speakeasy was the talk of the town for that week with some boy who could never hold her attention for very long indeed. Misty's always been content in playing in her well practiced tableau—being a lovely face who enticed folks to her like moths to a flame, even if those very same people were burned by the end of whatever they shared.

Misty had never cared enough to ever get hurt, and she'd liked that. Liked the independence coursing through her veins, the noncommittal nature that painted the outlook of her life. It was all so easy—numb, and cripplingly lonely some nights—but easy.

But now…Now this infuriating boy whom Misty's probably exchanged fewer than five words with, can just smile at her in the exact right way from across the room, and she suddenly feels like absolute putty in his hands, completely helpless. Like Gary's Michelangelo, with all the power, the ability to just shatter Misty if he so wished. And God what an unnerving feeling that is—being so pliant when it comes to this one person, so unbelievably willing to do anything and everything Gary would ever want or need. He inspired Misty to do impossible feats, to bring him the world to his mercy, if he so wished. Because there is absolutely no doubt in Misty's mind that Gary Oak deserved the world, and the world deserves Gary Oak.

Misty truly hasn't a clue what she's gotten herself into.

.-

"Oh come now Misty," May pouts with a tug on the arm. "You're my dearest friend, I think of you as a sister, and don't you me?"

"Of course May."

"Wonderful," she smiles like the cat who's gotten into the cream— eyes shone with mischief. "Then divulge to me, your dearest friend, all the going ons with you and that delectable Oak boy?"

"I haven't a clue to what you're speaking of," Misty sniffs, which makes May role her bright eyes so harshly that she fears her friend will strain something.

"Oh hogwash Mis, everyone sees how he stares at you like you've hung the moon in the sky."

"Untrue," Misty argues with no real heat, instead to busy praying that her words actually ring honest.

"No need to play modest with me old friend, we've both been brought up quite well aware of our charms and good breeding. Of course this fellow his attracted to you, but what's truly got folks rattled is that the saintly, borderline apathetic Misty Sheffield seems to be staring back at the poor chap with the same heated intent."

Misty can feel the tops of her cheekbones dusk red, and she elbows May in the side.

"No need for that sort of talk in public May."

"What ever sort of talk are you speaking of?" She blinks, owlish. "The truth?"

"May, Misty says as a warning, leveling the brunette with a look that tells her to just drop the topic at hand.

"Look Missy I'm only stating facts here. You two only danced with one another at the last ball the Ketchums held, and when the boys toast their sweethearts while playing cards Drew, quite amusedly mind you, tells me that Oak's only ever spoken your name." Misty worries on her bottom lip, she hadn't known that, but it pleases her to no end. "And look at you now!" May waggles an insistent finger in front of Misty's unsuspecting face. "You're enchanted by him, the rakish scoundrel, just tell me if no one else."

It's Misty's turn to roll her eyes heavenwards.

"Nonsense."

"True, it is nonsensical that you should be so drawn to a poor git who's boarding in one of Drew's back sheds, but alas, my dearest Missy your heart has always blinded you from the risible shortcomings of a person."

Sometimes Misty wonders if May is quite so aware how pompous she can sound, but reasons it's not worth the argument that would ensue if she had asked as much.

"Oh, hush. Now can we please purchase our tickets for the show before it gets to crowded."

With a huff, May only follows suit with mutterings of it being so unfair that her dearest friend keeps so many juicy secrets close to her chest, while she in turn is a completely open book to her dear Missy about all her most ardent of feelings for whomever has caught her ever fleeting attention.

Misty just shakes her head in amusement of May's antics.

.-

"Mis Misty Sheffield, fancy meeting you here, as lovely as always."

With a start, Misty freezes from where she's begun reaching for the pair of tickets on the till, something akin to eagerness squirming just beneath the surface of her skin, burrowing deep inside her contracting chest.

Misty recognizes that voice. The mischievous lilt that tells of how Gary was brought up in the lesser settled West, Kanto most probably, the roundness of his vowels, and the scintillating buoyancy of his greetings telling as much. And even if Misty had not memorized each and every cadence to Gary's speech, He's the only one who has ever insisted on calling Misty by an array of endearing pet names over anything else, and in turn she seems to be the only one to call him by his full Christian name rather than Oak, like all the others, An act that would surely seen so thoroughly scandalous in the eyes of her parents— far too familiar for her mother's approval. But Misty likes it though, likes that they have a greeting unique from all the "hellos" and "how do you dos?" that Gary surely doles out a hundred times over in a single day. Misty likes that whenever Gary refers to her in one of his variations of her name, or synonyms of beautiful, that it sounds almost like a term of endearment that's meant to lay down some sort of claim— one that's doused with a good amount of fondness that makes something warm and splendid coil deep in Misty's stomach.

"I'll leave you to it," May beams after Gary greets her as well. "Wouldn't want to intrude on your canoodling," Misty doesn't have the chance to reprimand her before May winks their way, snatches her ticket, and glides off to a familiar face in the crowd who waves her over, tactful in how she gives Misty and Gary some semblance of privacy in the public setting.

"Ahem," Misty tries to collect herself. "Gary, it's nice seeing you."

His smile goes lopsided as he leans against the wicket, eyes scanning the slip of paper in her hand before ordering a seat for the same film.

"I hope it's more than just nice Red"

Misty gulps, her cheeks burning scarlet at Gary's suggestive undertone.

Getting the reaction he was obviously fishing for, Gary straightens, and bores his eyes of emerald into Misty's own.

"Why, why of course, You know I've come to enjoy your company very much." Something pixilated gleams in his gaze right then as Misty stands stock-still in stilted anticipation for what he'll do next. What she most certainly does not expect is for the flirtatious smirk to melt into something much more genuine, impossibly bright eyes never leaving her face, and fists clenched as if he yearned to touch her with familiarity.

"Then I hope you'll be agreeable to my being seated besides you for this showing? I must admit the absence of your company these past few days has seized me in a quite foul mood, or at least my dear friend Mr Hayden tells as much. And considering how that bloke waxes poetic about Lady Archibald on a near constant basis, it's a worrisome observation."

"Is that right?" Misty titters with a quirk of her brow, effortlessly falling in step with Gary as they stroll to the screening room with a sizable distance separating them, Misty not unaware of the constant gazes that watch every move she makes, waiting for her to slip up.

"I must admit Misty, there has been a night or two that I've concluded your lineage to belonging to the vixens of yore considering to how seamlessly you've captured all my attentions from first laying eyes on you some weeks ago." His soft tenner shimmers with sincerity that makes her heart contract. "Don't look at me like that Red, it's not so impossible when taking into account your beauty that would make Joan Crawford weep with envy."

"You're quite the charmer Gary, surely you're aware of this attribute of yours?"

"I only speak the truth in matters that relate to you."

"Is that right?" She contends, being more than aware to his dalliances with other girls around town, and never being one to share anything, let alone the affections of such a man who's so entirely captivated her.

"But of course, how do you reckon I could ever fib to such an enchantress, my darling girl," He speaks the words with gusto, but Misty can translate the vulnerability beneath. And she supposes that at the very least she can be sure in that he's never been so wrong footed when with any of those other girls who practically leap for him whenever he steps into a room. He tries for her, and Misty supposes that's a start.

"Not quite yours Gary, but perhaps soon." She goads before pecking a kiss to his rapidly reddening cheeks and assuming her seat besides May who's twirling a lock of her hair while turned to the opposite side, speaking with a grey eyed man.,

Misty eventually needs to beckon him to follow suit instead of just standing there practically gaping…. She's only a bit boastful at how he clammers to try and lace there fingers together in as inconspicuous of a manner as possible.

"I don't know what I've gotten myself into with you Misty, do I?"

She just follies him a quick, tight lipped smile as the first of the title cards begin to play, privately thinking to herself that it makes both of them then.

.-

**Author's Note: Things are developing? LOL I think there will be around 2 or 3 chapters after this one depending on which ednding I decide onXD **

**Another a huge ILy to Ameriboo, i hope u liked this chapter doll! I promise to cut it with the pros in the next part XD**

**All My Love**

**~Len**


	3. It Needs To Be Enough

**All Our Tainted Stars**

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**Part III: That Needs To Be Enough **

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**Author's Note I: Please take into account the rating change3**

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"We've got a half of an hour before my sister expects us at her's for dinner."

"I hazard that's not an offer that can be reneged?"

"Not unless you'd like to face a cross Daisy yourself?"

The peal of laughter that pours out of Gary's lips is something booming and splendid and Misty wishes she could hear that dulcet sound for the next eon to come.

"Well then, we ought to get started, I know a challenge when I hear one."

Misty preens when Gary pushes her up against the door of the small cottage he'd rented out in the cusp of the expansive Hayden manner as if she weighed little more than a rag doll. He swipes the pads of his thumbs over the tops of her delicate cheekbones— marveling at her with a naked sort of adoration before melding their lips together in a kiss that makes Misty's body feel like it's actually been lit on fire, she arches back with the overwhelming pleasure of it.

"You're so good for me, so beautiful," he tells her quietly against the embrace with a voice she'd like to hear for an eon.

teasingly, she cants her hips forwards, and yeah she takes it back. Misty would much rather hear the little gasp of a moan that Gary lets out right then, again and again, in an infinite loop for all the years to come, over anything else.

"Oh— I see how— we're playing this now," Gary snarks between each nip at the juncture of Misty's neck and shoulder.

"I haven't a clue to what you're speaking of," Misty tries to scoff, but it instead comes out as a strangled moan when his hands dance along her bare torso underneath her skirts. She's not so far gone though that she doesn't notice the obvious effect she has on him, grinning at the little whimper that slips out of her mouth when he presses harder against her, as if it pleased him to no end that he can dissolve her into such a state.

Though Gary's upper hand doesn't last long. Misty recovers, and promptly brushes a hand against his cloth clad dick—with just the tips of her fingers, something too soft. a whisper of a promise more. sHe does it until she manages to pull out pleads and choked out gasps by him, begging Misty to just fucking get undressed already.

"Tsk, tsk," a bit impatient, no?

"You make me that way," he charges, defensive.

With a little snort, Misty slants their lips back together, dragging out hushed curses from him before they finally collapse atop his mattress in the corner of the room. She adores the way Gary fumbles to relieve her of her garments, the normally eloquent and poised man devolved into a sputtering, excitable lover.

They're kissing each other so hungrily that Misty's positive there'll be matching bruises once they part, ones that May will be more than happy to guffaw over, but Misty doesn't care nearly enough to stop.

Suddenly, startling and rushed, Gary slides off her mouth, and moves to pepper down Misty's rosy cheeks, sucking on the hallow of her long neck before moving down her bare chest with tender care, a hand on each of her breasts as his mouth flutters against them. She feels like Gary's hands are something heavenly, the way they brush down her body—gingerly patting down her sides and caressing the sensitive patches that he has long ago catalogued when it comes to Misty. He plays her like a conductor—knowing the exact right spot to prod and nip at to elicit a symphony of simpers by her. the sensory of it all is almost too overwhelming , making Misty writhe with a combination of pleasure and a sensation that's on this edge of painful.

But also, it's not nearly enough. Misty needs more, she needs Gary's mouth on her. Needed it like ten minutes ago if she's being at all honest. And she thinks Gary knows as much if the way he teasingly thumbs the cloth of her final remaining garment is anything to go by.

"Gary," Misty moans out—nothing to lose. "Please, just please."

Thankfully, that proved enough, because it's not another moment that passes till he divests Misty of her panties in one swift tug, with all the eagerness of a child on Christmas morning. He nuzzles the cress of her thigh, hot tendrils of breath making Misty want to buck upwards to capture the warmth.

"Shh baby, I've got you," he promises with a deliciously devious smirk, and God help her, she believes him.

.-

Misty feels totally spent—boneless—as Gary crawls back up to lye besides her, encircling her waste with his arm and mumbling sweet nothings into the crown of her head,. But she can't even begin to parse them out. Still feeling like he had just dragged every sensation out of her body, and left her a corpse.

"You are so glorious, do you know that," he says in wonderment.

Misty only hums absently, smug as all get out that she could make Gary— someone so beautiful and brilliant and awing— sound so taken aback—his voice going delectably raspy, with his pupils lust blown, as if he couldn't get enough of her, even as flushed and unpolished as she must appear right now.

"So are you sweetheart."

Mechanically, Misty grapples towards Gary's buckle to return the favor, before she's softly swatted away.

"Raincheck, no matter how it pains me to say so," gary kisses her palm, eyes hooded. "We're already running five minutes behind and I'm weary to admit that your sister quite severely terrifies me."

Misty can't help the chuckle that bubbles out, and how Gary makes her feel like something warm and splendid is blooming deep inside of her chest.

She's yet to afraid to identify the emotion, but Misty knows it feels like the closest thing to remarkable she's ever experienced.

.-

Misty still isn't quite sure how exactly they got here.

Eventually, idl quips volleyed between each other during the latest party evolved to the interlacing of hands and pecks on bare skin in the back of a dark theatre, and rushed embraces exchanged in the shadows of propriety— kissing each other stupid every chance they got.

Every time Gary had touched her, Misty felt like her skin was scorching, and every time they reunited, it felt like the best moment of Misty's entire existence.

It's like she's a school girl again, thinking sonnets and drawing out how the dying afternoon light caresses Gary's strong but beauteous features so tenderly. And how the way the green specs in his chestnut eyes go bright whenever they glance over at Misty's own, flecks of sea glass green dancing in the deep azure depths of them.

Misty is so beyond lost on him, and hates how Daisy tries to detract from the way she feels about Gary with her naturally cautious nature. Opting to instead warn Misty not to become so tethered to him so quickly… That Misty shouldn't lose herself in the rose tinted daydream that she's stumbled into.

But what did she know? Daisy fell just as hard and just as immediately for Tracey, a man not half as witty or a quarter good looking as Gary. She just must be green with envy that her sensible, ever looked past upon baby sister has laid claim to the type of man that she reckons Daisy had always yearned for.

"Misty, Tracey's name was well renowned in Johto, and an old acquaintance of our family'', we've known him for years before he and I began our courtship. You don't even seem to know this Oak fellows middle name. Bloody hell, the git lives on Hayden's grounds and he barely knows a thing of him and his life before he got here."

"He's a writer. He's gotten some of his works published even!" Misty shouts back at her, cross and seething. How dare Daisy question the moral standing of the only person on this fucking globe who has ever made Misty feel anything worth anything! The only person who can make it so she can actually see a future where she's fulfilled—where she's happy.

"Mist, I know. But what about before that," Daisy reaches out to clasp a hand on her sister's shoulder, but Misty flinches back, making it so her hand falls limp, and Daisy's expression goes pained. "Just take care Mist, know what you're getting yourself into, and that you're not woefully standing in the ninth circle of hell."

Misty most certainly does not take care…After all, there's no reason too.

Daisy is wrong, that's just fact.

Misty ignores Dawn's agreement with Daisy's warnings, and May's pointed looks whenever she sees her and Gary together. ("Daisy may be on something. I mean you know how much I absolutely adore Oak, especially after Drew told me of how he sings all your loveliest of praises to whomever would listen, But what of substance do you actually know about him?" "Enough. I know enough." "I just don't want you to get hurt Missy.")

The hell to the lot of them.

Misty knows Gary, Knows him in such intimate ways that it'd make their cheeks burn scarlet. Misty knows the freckles that scatter over his entire body. The butterfly shaped mole on his left butt cheek, and how much it drives him crazy when Misty nibbles on his ear while he is thrusting into her with all he has. Misty knows the way he rinses his hands together when he's nervous, and how he has this small, crooked smile that's only ever reserved for Misty when he thinks her particularly endearing. She knows that he loves to work because he wants to make a name for himself and his future children, a legacy he was not afforded at birth, unlike her. Misty knows that Gary adores her to the moon and back, and knows that there is a fire in him that the Lord himself could not even extinguish.

They don't know any of that, but Misty does. Misty knows Gary, better than herself somedays. And sure, she doesn't know his middle name, but some folks don't even have one of those arbitrary things. And what does it matter that the only times that Gary ever actually appears relaxed is when he's in the security of his own home, with Misty right besides him. It's the only place that Gary never needs to look over his shoulder every few minutes or so. ("A home is the only place a man can be truly safe my love, it's why the Greeks revered their hearths ever so. And why I'm always so grateful when you're here with me.") And so what if sometimes, when he introduces himself to one of Misty's many friends, Gary speaks his name as if it's alien to his lips. As if he had not lived with it all of his twenty three years…

But no matter.

That holds no weight when taking into account how in turn Gary speaks Misty's name like a prayer—like Misty is someone precious and vital to him, like she is that someone who is the most precious and vital to him.

Misty knows who Gary is. All the important attributes that string together his person—the sunlight and pen strokes that sing inside of him. Misty knows Gary. Misty loves Gary.

Oh fuck.

Fuck! Fuck!

Misty loves him.

Misty loves Gary so much it hurts somedays. And well fuck it all too hell, surely she knows all the important pieces that make up the person she loves. The rest of it is just unnecessary fodder.

Misty loves Gary and there is not a thing that could ever alter that simple truth.

.-

"Stop looking at me like that."

"How am I looking at you?"

"All googly eyed and weird."

"I can't help it Red, the view is just too beautiful to pass up."

"OH I'll give you a view."

She pounces on Gary's soaking form, straying them further away from the shoreline. Laughing and splashing each other in the churning waves, intermittently interrupted by warm kisses that taste like salt and all the hushed secrets of the galaxy. It's the first time in a long time that Misty feels so untethered from all the expectations and suspecting eyes of their real world. Here, alone with just Gary, everything feels so right and grounding. So far away from the suffocation of the crowds that swarm venues like Philip Hayden's welcome home gala. And rather than suffering through the empty platitudes of those types of gatherings, she and Gary's night had evolved to a late night assignation to the coast.

Getting drunk off of moonlight and laughter before jumping barefoot into the chilling autumn sea.

"Last one to the sand dune is a rotten egg!"

"OH you are so on!"

The pair chorus a cackle as Misty leaps onto Gary's back, demanding that he carry her all the way to the very top, he groans and complains but obviously does so because this is Gary and he would complete Misty's most ostentatious of whims if it would make her smile for even just a moment.

He sets her down on the ledge that overlooks the entire grounds, gazing at her with a soft sort of wonderment.

"You're doing it again," she teases with a smirk, carding a hand through his auburn locks that look obsidian in the moonlight.

"You're beautiful," he says instead of taking the bate.

"You flatter me Mr. Oak," she leers as if they were those stumbling, unaware kids from mere months ago. Back before Misty understood what it meant to truly fall so immensely in love with another.

"I don't deserve you Red, truly." He tells her with a waver, clasping their hands together as he peers up at her from where he's lying down, half onto her long, stretched out legs.

"Hush," she scolds with no real heat, tapping his nose with the top of her finger before kissing him soundly. She hated it when he got in these moods, convincing himself that he's not the most spectacular man whom's ever stepped on God's green earth. Like she could ever be herself if she had not loved him with all she had to give. As if somehow, in some warped turn of events, it was he who was not worthy of her, rather than the other way around.

"You're brilliant Gary," she whispers with her fingers still touching his prominent jawline, and soft lips still grazing against each other. "Absolutely brilliant.

He deepens the embrace by pulling her down underneath him, making everything go delirious.

Their toes are numb while they fold into one another on the sand and under the stars—And it's like the world has suspended for them, just for that breath of a moment. Misty traces the constellations on Gary's collar bone with her nose, taking in the scent of him. The familiar, intoxicating cocktail of sunlight and sandalwood.

"I love you." Misty doesn't know what made her admit it, but there it is, squirming out her lips and fluttering around in the stillness they've carved out for themselves. piercing and true.

It takes more than a minute for her to realize how unnaturally stilted Gary had gone, before he just pounces more forcefully, like he couldn't get enough of her, like he needed all of her for him to believe the proclamation, and Misty is more than willing to give him that reassurance.

It doesn't feel so completely devastating that Gary pointedly does not speak the words back to her…Not really.

Misty never really expected that Gary could ever actually love her in equal measures. Gary has always been a whirlwind of megawatt smiles, and otherworldly magnetism. He'd always been someone that everyone sought to become or have. Gary has always deserved all the possibilities and opportunities of this world, and Misty was most certainly not that.

But at the very least, she could have him now, like this. Misty could have Gary in these quiet moments, blanketed by darkness and kissed by starlight—in their slice of eternity. Misty could have Gary for now, and that would be enough.

That needs to be enough.

.-

**Author's Note II: Ok so super low key this's my favorite chapter. This is the penultimate chapter, so the next will be the final. I'm sorry to let this AU go, but it's been fun to write so far3 **

**Thank you to ****_Ameriboo_****, for commenting for the prior two chapters, it means the galaxy and world to me when a reader takes the time out of their day and tells me what they think33**

**I really and truly hope to hear from you soon.**

**All My Love**

**~Len**


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